Near the end of Job’s travail, after God finally defended his wisdom to Job through creation (Job 38-41), Job affirmed God’s sovereignty, saying, “I know that You can do all things, and that no purpose of Yours can be thwarted” (Job 42:2). Those who, like Job, have a high view of God’s sovereignty and power might agree that God is able to do all things, yet still struggle to explain how God works out His own sovereign purposes when people make real decisions as well. Enter God’s providence.
One evangelical theologian defines providence as follows:
God is continually involved with all created things in such a way that he (1) keeps them existing and maintaining the properties with which he created them; (2) cooperates with created things in every action, directing their distinctive properties to cause them to act as they do; and (3) directs them to fulfill His purposes.1
In other words, the sovereign God of the universe is able to so work in nature, in every creature, and in the hearts and minds of all humanity, in such a way that they perfectly accomplish God’s plan and purposes. As the apostle Paul said in his letter to the Philippian congregation, “Work out your salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure” (Phil 2:12-13).
If one were to meditate on this concept of God’s control of all things through normal, everyday circumstances of each individual, creature, and weather pattern, it would boggle the mind. It is as miraculous as the parting of the Red Sea (Exod 14:21-29), or the sun stopping in the middle of the sky for nearly a whole day (Josh 10:12-14). God’s
1Wayne A. Grudem, Systematic Theology: An Introduction to Biblical Doctrine (Leicester, England: Inter-Varsity; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2004), 315.
providence, however, is God working within the laws of nature and creaturely volition, rather than suspending certain laws of nature, as in the miraculous. God’s behind-the- scenes work of providence, what is often labeled coincidence, is as Jon Levenson has remarked, according to the “old saw that a coincidence is a miracle in which God prefers to remain anonymous.”2
It is obvious then, by definition, that God’s providence has played a role up to this point in Esther’s story, but now providence takes on a role as best supporting actor on behalf of Esther and Mordecai in their work to stop the plans of Haman. As Job learned before this time, God’s purposes, in this case God’s purpose to protect Israel, to bless those who blessed her and curse those who opposed her (Gen 12:3), could not be thwarted. God’s promise of a future for Israel becomes the lever that directs God’s providential workings in the events that are recorded in the sixth chapter of Esther’s drama. The presence of God is sensed through his providential work in support of his promise of a future for his covenant people Israel.
Context
Esther has begun her plan for the redemption of her people, the Jews. The reader wonders why Esther did not simply plead for her people when Ahasuerus extended his golden scepter and guaranteed her request, up to half the kingdom (5:3). Or again when, during the first banquet, the king made the same offer (5:6). We sense that it was not fear, or cold feet, that caused Esther to delay for another day and for another banquet.
The second banquet seemed to be Esther’s design, intending to compound the king’s obligation to honor what has now become a two-fold offer to grant her request, up to half his kingdom. Still, Esther could never have known in advance how God would work providentially to protect Mordecai from Haman’s plan to hang him. And Haman could
2Jon D. Levenson, Esther (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997), 11.
never have imagined that he would have to honor the one person who stood between Haman and a sense of satisfaction (5:13).
Main Idea
The God who promises is the God who is also able to protect His promises by working in the most common aspects of life. In this passage, God uses insomnia and pride to bring about a reversal of fortunes for both God’s people and their enemies.
Exposition
While actions already taken by Esther, Mordecai, and other Jews in Susa mark a turn in the story – especially Esther’s decision to contend for her people – the events of this chapter signal a dramatic turn in the fortune of the Jews of Susa and throughout the empire. In keeping with this thematic turn, we will consider the chapter as a series of turns. First, when sleeplessness turns to discovery (6:1-3); second, when pride turns to humiliation (6:4-11); finally, when encouragement turn to enigma (6:12-14).
Sleeplessness Turns to Discovery (6:1-3)
The king had been eager to grant Esther’s request at the first banquet (5:6).
Instead Esther prolonged the suspense by putting her request off until the following day, to be presented at a second banquet to which the king and Haman were both invited again. While Haman was characterized as having left the banquet in high spirits, we are not told how the delay impacted Ahasuerus. While it is reasonable to wonder if the suspense was what caused the king’s insomnia that night, the narrator doesn’t say. What we are told is that “the sleep of the king fled.”3 Interestingly, in the Greek translation of Esther, which attempted to cure the troubling omission of references to God by adding to
3Carey A. Moore, Esther, The Anchor Bible (Garden City, NY: Doubleday & Co., 1971), 63.
As Moore remarks, “The cause is left to the reader’s imagination.”
the Masoretic Text, there is an explicit attribution to God, reading, “The Lord took sleep from the king that night.”4
In the king’s sleeplessness, he had the chronicles, the record of events, brought into his presence and read before him. The portion that was read to the king were the circumstances surrounding the earlier assassination plot by Bigthana and Teresh (2:21- 23). Also recorded there was the fact that Mordecai the Jew had reported the plans of the two, a report that led to the subsequent execution of those would-be assassins. For whatever reason this report had escaped Ahasuerus’ attention at the time of the report, investigation, and execution of Bigthana and Teresh, and Mordecai had gone unrewarded for his service of loyalty to the king.
In hearing of Mordecai’s praiseworthy deed, Ahasuerus immediately asked what the chronicles recorded as the reward, or honor, bestowed upon Mordecai. The king’s servants indicated that nothing had been done for him, and therefore no honor or dignity was recorded in the chronicles. It helps to know at this point that this was not an acceptable situation that Mordecai had received no honor for his act of loyalty to the king. Herodotus indicated that Persian kings were known for rewarding those who were loyal to them, if for no other reason than engendering loyalty for self-preservation.5
If the reader were to question God’s involvement in Esther’s story thus far, because of a lack of reference to the divine, it is difficult to dismiss his providential working in these circumstances. The king happened to have a sleepless night, and then, in the command to have the chronicles read, chanced upon the record of Mordecai’s loyal service, at just the moment when Mordecai needed an advocate to protect him from Haman, who planned to ask for permission to have Mordecai hung. Levenson speaks to this providential working, remarking,
4LXX of Esth 6:1.
5Karen Jobes, Esther, NIV Application Commentary (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1999), 153.
It is likely that the kings’ insomnia is another one of those strangely unmotivated events, like Vashti’s refusal to come to the banquet, Esther’s winning the favor of all who see her, and Mordecai’s refusal to bow to Haman. Actions seem to come out of nowhere in this tale, but they gradually link together to form an immensely positive and meaningful pattern of Jewish deliverance: If the term “theology” means anything in reference to the book of Esther, this is its theology.6
One might wonder why Mordecai’s loyalty was overlooked at the time it occurred. Jobes has observed that Mordecai’s character is commended in that he
continued to serve faithfully despite his good deed having gone unrewarded.7 Instead it is best understood that God’s hand of protection was withholding Mordecai’s reward ‘for such a time as this.’ Had Mordecai been honored at the time of his report, the amazing turn of events that played out presently in the story would not have been as they were.
The God who was at work through providence in the lives of these Jews long ago is the same God whom we serve today. He is the unchanging One who is vigilant in the lives of his people. He can be trusted to orchestrate the events of our ordinary, day to day lives in such a way as to bring glory to himself, and peace to our hearts as we learn to trust him more completely.
Pride Turns to Humiliation (6:4-11)
Ahasuerus was eager to right the wrong of having allowed Mordecai to go without being honored for his loyalty. And yet, the king desired counsel on what honor would be fitting. Seeking to learn who might be able to speak into this matter, Ahasuerus demanded to know who was available at that moment. Haman just happened to have entered the palace, with intentions to ask permission to hang the very individual the king desired to honor.
6Levenson, Esther, 95. Levenson seems to imply that the theology of Esther is largely, then, a theology of God’s providential workings to accomplish His promises on behalf of His people.
7Jobes, Esther, 153.
Pride Motivated Haman’s Visit (6:4-5)
It was Haman’s pride that led him to believe that his own happiness was more important than Mordecai’s life, especially given the fact that Mordecai’s days were already numbered by the edict of Jewish annihilation that had already been issued.
Regardless of the fact that Mordecai was already destined to die, Haman could not bear the thought of having to endure Mordecai’s lack of esteem until then. In fact, so filled with self-importance was Haman that he wanted Mordecai dead before the banquet later that day, in order that his existence did not dampen Haman’s enjoyment of Esther’s feast.
It was Haman’s pride that convinced him that his request for Mordecai’s life was virtually certain. He had, after all, already had the gallows constructed suddenly, and quickly, the prior evening. This was because Haman’s pride had convinced Haman that Mordecai’s life was insignificant in an empire in which Haman was second-in-command.
As Bush observes,
If the king could be manipulated to consent to the annihilation of a people, how difficult should it be to gain his consent to the elimination of one man? But Haman’s prospects have actually peaked in a manner that he could never have imagined. His decision to speak to the king in the morning about having Mordecai hanged meets with a set coincidences so remarkable that they can hardly be anything but the narrator’s cipher for “divinely arranged” (Clines, 307). Haman’s plans are about to run head on into the providence of God.8
Pride Motivated Haman’s Counsel (6:6-9)
A pride-filled Haman had just entered the outer court, intending to speak with the king regarding his plans for hanging Mordecai. Ahasuerus had no idea that this was the reason Haman had come to visit. Haman had no idea, on the other hand, why the king had bid Haman to come into his throne room. It is likely that Haman simply attributed this to his own perceived importance to the king. In fact, what happened next was all a product of Haman’s inflated ego.
8Frederic Bush, Ruth-Esther, Word Biblical Commentary, vol. 9 (Dallas: Word, 1996), 418.
Without asking Haman the reason for his visit, King Ahasuerus quickly posed his pressing question regarding a fitting way to distinguish a man whom the king desired to honor (6:6). The king did not specify the identity of this man he desired to honor, and this lack of clarity was all that was necessary for Haman to fall into a trap – a trap set by none other than Haman’s pride. When Haman heard the king’s question he immediately assumed that he himself must be the one whom the king wished to honor. He could think of no one else whom the king would desire to honor. Here the reader hears echoes of Haman’s earlier discussion with his wife and friends, as he recounted “every instance where the king had magnified him and how he had promoted him above the princes and servants of the king” (5:11).
The wisdom literature of the Hebrew Bible spoke often about the danger of pride to an individual’s welfare. Proverbs 16:18 warned, “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before stumbling.” The Jewish audience familiar with God’s word might very well have read Haman’s thoughts through that filter, having a heightened sense of anticipation that Haman’s fall was in process.
That Haman’s pride was motivating his response to the king’s query is obvious through his recorded thoughts and elongated verbal reply. Michael Fox notes this, writing,
Haman is fascinated by the phrase, “the man whom the king desires to honor.” The break in the syntax suggests that Haman is pausing to savor the phrase, which he applies to himself. . . . Haman rolls the phrase “the man whom the king desires to honor” around in his mouth four times, beginning and ending his little speech with it.9
Assuming himself as the intended recipient of that honor, a result of his pride, Haman began to describe his own dream parade. First, the man whom the king desired to honor must be robed in a royalty. According to Haman, this should not simply be a royal robe that was fitting for the king. It must be a royal robe that the king had already worn.
9Michael V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1991), 76.
Historians indicate that in the Persian culture, the royal robes, even the king’s bed and his royal throne were objects believed to impart benefits of royalty to the one who wore them.10 As Jobes observes, because of Haman’s high station in the Persian Empire, some association with royalty beyond being the highest prince of the land, was the only honor Haman was lacking.11
With one of the king’s robes draped around the man whom the king desires to honor, that same man should be placed upon a royal steed (6:8). Again, the honor would be in that this was a horse that the king had ridden upon as well. In fact, that horse should be adorned with a royal crown also.12 As Haman’s enormous desire to have his own ego built up was informing his counsel to Ahasuerus, it was clear that the wearing of the king’s robe and riding his horse was intended to communicate to the population of Susa a close bond between the king and this man whom the king desired to honor.
Some would argue that Haman was envisioning more than honor from the king, but actually imagining a conferring of royalty itself. In fact, Jon Levenson states that “[t]he investiture in royal garb that Haman seeks for himself and that Mordecai actually receives is reminiscent of the ancient Mesopotamian institution of the substitute king, of which echoes were still heard in the time of Xerxes.”13
None of that was complete, according to Haman, apart from some sort of heralding of the importance of the man whom the king desired to honor. Haman indicated to Ahasuerus that such a man, royally arrayed and regally transported, must be given into
10Jobes, Esther, 153.
11Ibid., 154.
12While crowning a horse may seem odd to today’s reader, and some have indicated that this verse was intended to imply that a crown should be set on the honoree’s head, Assyrian reliefs portrayed the king’s horses wearing tall head ornaments. Carey Moore also refers to reliefs of Xerxes with horses wearing crowns (Berlin, 59-60).
13Levenson, Esther, 98.
the hands of one of the king’s most noble princes, who would then lead both horse and honoree through the city square. While leading them, Haman added, that high ranking official should proclaim, ‘Thus it shall be done to the man whom the king desires to honor’ (6:9).
One can almost imagine Haman’s chest swelling with pride as he drew his counsel to a close, imagining himself as the focus of this honor. Had Haman not believed that he would be the recipient of this honor, it is likely that his counsel would not have devised such grand treatment. And it certainly would not have been so, if Haman had been told by the king that this honor was for Mordecai the Jew.
Perhaps as we consider the humiliation that Haman had set himself up for in this situation, we can also use this lesson to derive a gauge for our own tendency toward becoming prideful. When we begin to think that we deserve treatment, or honors, that are far above what we could tolerate if our rival were to receive them, then pride has ensnared us. Any honor that we might receive, or hope to receive, must always be viewed as a gracious gift from God, derived as a result of God’s enablement rather than our own innate talents and ingenuity. If pride goes before destruction, learning to humble ourselves in this way can keep us from such painful falls.
Humiliation Replaces Pride as Haman Honors Mordecai (6:10-11)
Haman’s pride turned to humiliation when Ahasuerus commanded him to do just as he had proposed, but for the person of Mordecai. Haman had come that morning hoping to secure permission to put Mordecai to death. While being distracted from his murderous plot for long enough to imagine his own pseudo-coronation, suddenly Haman was jolted back to reality, but it was a reality that must have seemed like Haman’s worst nightmare. Haman was being commanded to confer an honorary treatment that he had devised for himself upon his worst enemy.
This turn of events in which Haman was commanded to honor “Mordecai the Jew” (6:10) confirms that Haman had been vague when he had sold his plot of destruction to the king earlier. As the text indicated, Haman simply described the targets of annihilation as a “certain people” (4:8), and not the Jewish people. For if Haman had identified the Jews earlier, that would have likely registered to the king at this point. Now the mention of Mordecai as ‘the Jew’ added insult to torment for Haman, as he is commanded to honor his enemy, also a representative of the enemy of his own people, the Amalekites.
Haman did as he was commanded by the king. In fact, Haman wasn’t allowed to delegate the leading of Mordecai to another noble prince. Instead he, being the highest of the noble princes, was responsible for carrying out the honoring of Mordecai. There is no record of any dialogue that the two men may have had. Nor is there any record of an explanation that Haman might have given to Mordecai in the process of carrying out the king’s honor. There is not even any indication that either Haman or Mordecai were informed that this honor was a late payment for Mordecai’s earlier act of loyalty toward the king. All of this silence seems to spotlight and magnify the significance of the humiliation for Haman.
Where Mordecai had avoided bowing to Haman, Haman was now forced to honor Mordecai with an honor that Haman desired for himself. While Israel’s God goes unmentioned in Esther’s story, his presence is felt through fulfillment of a promise made long before. A promise that referenced these two people groups represented in this scene had certainly not failed.
How fair are your tents, O Jacob, your dwellings, O Israel! . . . Water will flow from his buckets, and his seed will be by many waters, and his king shall be higher than Agag, and his kingdom shall be exalted. . . . Blessed is everyone who blesses you, and cursed is everyone who curses you. (Num 24:5-9)
Jacob’s representative here, Mordecai, is exalted above Agag’s (Num 24:7).
And what is also stated in that context, a restatement of the Abrahamic promise, will soon